Not Of This Earth
by DeathNoteLover235
Summary: Mulder has always believed that we are not alone, and that 'The truth is out there.' But what if there is another truth, already down here.


Standing in the center of a barren circular patch of forest, under the serene enormous orb takes over the horizon simultaneously with rest of the upper atmosphere, accompanied by small glowing pinpricks of light, resembling little holes in the floor of heaven shining down upon the unworthy earth below. The man's chest heaves as he pants from his horrifying yet exhilarating jaunt through the brush, wisps of icy smoke ascending from his pale, thin, cracked lips. The wind howls, joined by a faint spine-chilling cry of wolves off in the distance. Shadows cast false silhouettes, twisting all about the mans feet, as the fierce breeze causes them to sway for his own private performance. An abundance of chirping insects, screeching bats, owls and vermin echo in the otherwise quiet area. The scent of pine lingers in the air, and it's powerful aroma wafts into his nostrils. The crunching of gravel beneath his swift feet as he scans the area. Gun steady in hand, concealed by his billowing trench coat, a sliver of the metallic surface reflects in the clear night sky. As he wildly searches the small enclosure, hiscold calculating blue eyes widen with terror. Surrounded by thick mass of green, he frantically spins around, failing to find what he's desperately scouring the limited space for, unable to see past the thick entangled mass of growth.

"Scully! Scully! Where are you?"

His pleas go unanswered, as a rustling of twigs draws his attention. A half-naked manemerges from the tress, his bear torso covered in deep gashes, crimson fluid seeping out from each cut, mingling, pooling as it glides down his muscle-bound chest. His rock hard, sculpted belly is still visible through the blood, Just showing how fit and toned the man truly is. Except with the abundant amount of bleeding, making it impossible to get an accurate assessment of his injuries. Barely out of the thick mass of wood, he collapses. Putting his gun into the holster, the man rushes to his side, checking the man's pulse. Thready but there. Scooping the limp man into his arms, he trudgesthough the wood.,venturing forward to find an end to the brush sweeping into his face, having forgotten his lost partner in need, Scully.

He finally escapes the endless patch of forest, cheeks strewn in thin scratches, from branches, each lightly bleeding a thin line of crimson, small droplets running along his strong chin, as he comes upon a lengthy road. Only visible by the neon strips, illuminating the dark path. As two beams of light stretch over the road, along with the roaring of a engine. Closing in as it halts right next to Mulder holding the half-nude man against his chest, the passenger door swings open. Scully leaning over, her well endowed bosom, overflowing from her skin tight top, brushing the dark leatherseat. The top three buttons of her blouse torn open, revealing her décolletage at the perfect eye level, allowing visible access to her pale breasts and powder blue bra. Her normally bright golden scarlet shoulder length hair, dimmed by the dark bombarding the windows from outside the sanctuary of the car. Spilling over her shoulders, on the top of her jet black suit jacket.

"Get in!" Barking orders at her panting partner. Special Agent Mulder carefully placesthe injured man into the back seat, before sliding into the car along side his demanding partner. As she puts the pedal to the metal, racing away from the eerie shadows enveloping them. Speeding to the nearest hospital emergency room. Not a word passes between them as silence takes control. While Scully drives, Mulder glances back every-so-often. The silence is lifted by the half-naked man in the backlightly whimpering in agony, still profusely bleeding. What's left of his shredded, blood-soaked trousers,clingesto his legs like a seconded skin. Closer examination reveales the deep gashes over his abdomen are serve lacerations all the way to the bone. His sternum glistens, red and white, blood and bone. As they near the hospital, Mulder looks back to witness the man's deep gashes, begin to close. As the bleeding slows it's pace to a crawl, until the gaping claw wounds, become tiny scrapes, and his bones are once again hidden as the caramel flesh re-knits itself back together. When the blood is no longer flowing over his chiseled torso, the man's eyes flutter open.

"We are almost there!" Scully says in her usual, matter-of-fact monotone, believing she has a certain jé ne seis quoi authority that makes her above it all, that her rational mind was far greater then that of her delusional partner.

"Scully it's not my fault," pleaded Mulder. The first to drop the stalemate. "What could I have done? They have my sister!" The rims of his eyes redden, tears threatening to fall.

"Dammit Fox! You risked our lives on uncertain information. I don't care what or whoyour source is. That area is called the Waste Land for good reason! I mean look at him!" Mulder glances back again, the mans eyes open, his wounds completely healed. Concealed by the reminisce of blood.

"Scully.!?" His voice timid and unsure of its stability until he halts in the line of questioning, as they pull up in front of the emergency room.

"We'll talk about his later," she growls. Opening their doors, Mulder lifts the man. As all three of them disappear into the hustle and bustle of the emergency room.

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**so I have no idea if this is a one-shot or not. Ummm, I hope you enjoyed. Please review, or PM me with any questions/ comments. **


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